


Tuesdays Are For The Girls

by oliwellwhocares



Category: BNA: Brand New Animal (Anime)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gen, Gender Considerations, Kissing, Makeup, shirou/michiru is platonic, that's his lesbian daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26108656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliwellwhocares/pseuds/oliwellwhocares
Summary: “Stop blinking,” whispers Nazuna, and Michiru feels her breath on her face, her whiskers nearly brushing over her cheek.Michiru has feelings about girls, and makeup, and Nazuna.
Relationships: Hiwatashi Nazuna/Kagemori Michiru, Kagemori Michiru & Ogami Shirou
Comments: 17
Kudos: 171





	Tuesdays Are For The Girls

**Author's Note:**

> I made this sound quite serious, but honestly, it's pretty silly. Like it's mostly highschool lesbian romance with an interlude of me projecting my gender feelings onto Michiru..... but ain't that just the way

Nazuna is really close.

She’s  _ really  _ close.

Michiru and Nazuna are pretty affectionate, as far as best friends go, but even for them, this is…

Close.

“Stop blinking,” whispers Nazuna, and Michiru feels her breath on her face, her whiskers nearly brushing over her cheek.

“Sorry,” she answers, and she tried to say it softly, but it seems to come out so loud she can barely repress a flinch.

“It’s fine.” Michiru would hear the smile in her voice even if she couldn’t see, right in front of her, the corner of her lips lifting up. It’s incredible how alike her fox smile and human smile are. It’s incredible, how pink and beautiful everything about her is, no matter what form she takes. “Close your eyes,” Nazuna continues, still so soft, and Michiru is helpless to obey, “and relax your lids.” This is a little more difficult to follow, but she must manage it, since she feels the makeup brush over her skin.

Michiru is human for this, because this is supposed to be practice for the gala they will attend next week in Tokyo. Michiru is very proud of the work they do to bring beastmen and humans together, but this is certainly not her favorite part of it. This is Nazuna’s strong suit: smiling, being polite, charming politicians. But Mayor Rosé wants them both to be here, and they have to be human, and they have to look pretty, so. Makeup practice it is.

The brush leaves her skin for a second or two, and Michiru dares to crack her eyes open, glancing at Nazuna, focused on her palette before she looks back up and glares at Michiru.

She screws her eyes shut again, focusing on keeping her human skin in place before forcing her lids to relax again.

This is more complicated than she thought.

Nazuna’s brush tickles her, her fingers are soft against her skin and makes her want to open her eyes, even though she doesn’t know why. She doesn’t know what kind of pattern is being drawn on her skin, and that’s weird, and trying to imagine what she might look like is just so  _ strange _ . She never wore makeup before, she doesn’t have any basis for how it will look on herself. Does she look like another person?

Would that… would that be good? Or not? 

“How’s it looking?” she asks before she can think better of it.

“Good!” Nazuna chirps immediately, but that’s not what Michiru was thinking of, somehow. Of course it’s looking good, Nazuna does it practically everyday, different style for human and fox, and it’s always creative and cute. That’s not what Michiru was wondering. She doesn’t know what she was wondering.

“I’m applying a second color of eyeshadow,” Nazuna continues, and somehow, that’s closer to what she meant to ask. Nazuna always seems to know what she means, even if she doesn’t always do it. “It’s a bit darker, to accentuate the nice shape of your eye.” Of course, she manages to sneak a compliment in it, and Michiru knows that this close to her face, there’s no way to miss her blush. Nazuna never compliments her directly, looking into her eyes, like Michiru does. She does it like this, and it’s a game, to catch all of them, even the most under-handed ones. This one was easy, though.

She keeps going. Touches different kinds of stuff to Michiru’s eyes, powders, then some kind of cream maybe, then her cheeks, and explains it all along the way. At times, she brushes back a strand of hair that escaped the headband, or pulls Michiru’s eyebrows or lips up or down, to stretch this or that patch of skin, she says. Michiru feels like her skin is set on fire every time, and she has to focus to keep her form stable, prompting exasperated little sighs from her makeup artist, but no protests. 

At the end, she asks Michiru to “open your mouth, not too much, like you’re trying to catch your breath but discreetly, because you still want to look cool” and then she puts her thumb on her lips, stretching them gently for the strangely soft touch of the lipstick. Michiru knows what she meant, so all she can do is breathe, trying to do it discreetly like Nazuna said, and think very hard about the feeling of the clothes on her shoulder, avoiding at all cost the thought of Nazuna’s touch. 

It snicks in anyway, taking up more and more space in her head, the soft skin, the warmth underneath, the way it slips a little against the sensitive skin of her mouth.  _ Fuck _ . Oh, Melissa wouldn’t like her saying that, but she’s allowed to think it. And here, it’s certainly appropriate, because now she can feel Nazuna’s breath again. She smells like wild berry, so sweet, and so close and warm and  _ close _

Just when she thinks she can’t stand it anymore, that she’s going to do something, she doesn’t know what but  _ something _ , Nazuna moves away.

“All done!” she declares happily, and Michiru opens her eyes to her best friend looking at her proudly.

Well. Looking at her makeup proudly.

“You’re so pretty!”

That makes her feel good, Michiru thinks. It’s the most direct compliment she got from Nazuna in a long time. Probably at least a year. She doesn’t really know why it doesn’t feel like the usual good; but then again, she hasn’t seen the makeup yet.

Nazuna always knows, and she holds up a handheld mirror to her face. At first, Michiru wonders where she got it, because it’s certainly not Michiru’s, so maybe Melissa gave it to her, but it’s reasonable to assume Nazuna brought it.

While she thinks all that, she looks at herself.

And the makeup.

It’s two separate things, in a strange way, not in the way Nazuna wears it. When she wears it, she looks like herself, with makeup. Colored eyelids and lips and sparkles along her cheekbone.

On Michiru, it looks… strange.

Like there’s her face with makeup, and it was put on top of her real face, a replacement, of sort. A pretty one, that can’t be denied.

“Yeah, your makeup looks so pretty!” she answers.

She’s enthusiastic. She can hear it in her voice, and see it in her pink lips stretching in her reflection. It’s genuine; it was fun to get her makeup done by Nazuna, and it felt good, and her reflection looks pretty. Prettier than Michiru ever was. It’s just this part that she doesn’t know how she feels about.

But she does look good, so good.

“It’s on you that it looks pretty,” Nazuna says, as a correction, of sorts. She’s not wrong! It looks pretty, and it’s on her face, but it’s not  _ Michiru _ . Michiru is not pretty, and that’s not bad. Michiru is Michiru, and she looks good. She thinks. She thinks, most of the time. She looks at her reflection and likes herself, and that’s what looking good is, right?

She looks at her reflection now, and it looks pretty. She likes what she sees. She’s not sure she likes  _ herself _ , though. 

It’s not making any sense, so she turns to Nazuna and smiles.

“It’s really pretty,” she says. Didn’t she just say that?

Nazuna drops her head to the side. There’s something in her eyes, like she’s considering something and Michiru will only learn about it when it’s too late to stop her.

Michiru loves those times, Nazuna’s plans and schemes, her secret thoughts that she always, no matter what, ends up sharing with her. So Michiru’s smile stretches, and she feels a bit more normal. 

“You should go show it to Melissa and Gem! I’ll clean up here.” Nazuna winks, and everytime she does that Michiru has to do as she says, so down the stairs she goes.

Melissa gasps when she walks into the living room.

“Oh, Michiru! Gem, look at our little lady!”

She can’t help but laugh, because Melissa certainly never called her a  _ lady _ before. Nazuna, certainly, a proper lady, but not her.

“I’m not a lady, Melissa, it’s still me!”

“Oh I’m not sure about that dear,” she laughs too. 

It would be weird to stop laughing now, so Michiru keeps it going for a second, even though she doesn’t find it so funny anymore.

“You look very pretty,” says Gem.

Shirou says nothing. He frowns, in fact. It’s fine, he’s probably got nothing nice to say about Nazuna’s pretty makeup. Nothing Michiru would want to hear!

That night, they have dinner with Nazuna. She eats with them pretty often now, and Michiru’s thinking about that while she goes to wash her hands. She forgot about the makeup, and when she lifts her head and catches her reflection, she decides to take it off.

The water doesn’t work very well, mostly just smears it around. When she looks around, the product Nazuna told her to use to remove it is right next to the sink, so she can come down to dinner with her normal face.

It occurs to her as she sits that she could have simply turned back to tanuki, and it’s been a while since she forgot about that, even for a few seconds.

Melissa says that she could have kept the makeup, and Nazuna laughs and says it was just a test, and they eat, and for a while, that is the end of it.

* * *

A while means only three days, because Shirou is secretly a gossip at heart. So, three days later, they’re alone on the roof and Michiru is distracted by the movements of the clouds in the sky, and trying to calculate how long it will be until Pinga passes by Anima City again, so she’s utterly surprised when the wolf says: “You don’t own any makeup.”

She doesn’t think before answering, “No, I don’t like it.”

A second later, it feels like a fault, somehow. She turns to Shirou, and he looks normal, just as usual, piercing stare trained on her. 

“I looked pretty when Nazuna did it, though,” she tries to salvage. She thinks again that he will probably be rude about it. It would be fine, now, with no one but the two of them to hear it.

“But you don’t like it,” he answers.

It’s not really rude.

Actually, it’s true.

“Nazuna is really good with makeup,” she says, more softly. Shirou doesn’t answer this time, and for a while, there’s nothing between them but the wind.

“I don’t like it,” she admits again, eventually. It feels shameful.

He answers, this time, with “I don’t like makeup either,” and she giggles.

“Yeah, obviously!”

“Why,” he asks, and he doesn’t look like he’s joking, but then again, he never does. He’s joking, she thinks, probably, but she still answers.

“You’re a male wolf, Shirou,” and he says “No.”

There’s silence again, for a few seconds. 

“It’s obvious because I don’t own any makeup either, and I never wear it, and I told you.”

“I’ve never heard you say such a long sentence,” she mocks in answer. He still looks so serious. Too serious for such a stupid conversation. 

“Why did you wear makeup, anyway,” he asks. He never sounds like he asks anything, always keeping his voice flat, but Michiru knows him enough by now not to get offended. 

“Nazuna wanted to practice for the gala!”

“You will wear makeup to the gala.”

At this point, he has to be intentionally obtuse. Or maybe not. Shirou tends to have surprising holes in his knowledge of modern things. 

“I have to! Nazuna and I will represent Anima City, and we’re two young, charming girls! We have to look pretty! Well,” she muses, “Nazuna will be pretty no matter what. Me, I need some makeup to help with that,” she says with a giggle at the end. She thinks it sounds better with a little laugh, which is true a lot of the time, but particularly now. 

“Do you want to be.”

“What?”

“Pretty.”

“Well,” she laughs again. It feels a little more forced, “for important occasions, yes!”

“And a girl.”

For a few seconds, she just stares at him. Sometimes, he says the weirdest things. 

“What about a girl?”

“Do you want to be a girl.”

This time, she laughs loudly, for a few seconds. It’s not… Well. It’s not like she never thought about it! Sometimes she doesn’t like being a girl, but it’s just a funny thing to think about. It’s not like she can do anything about it, even when she doesn’t like it, or well, she could do something, maybe, if she felt like a boy, she knows it’s possible. But that’s not it, she doesn’t want to be a boy, and sometimes not a girl, but it’s all silly things to think about. And certainly to talk about. 

Shirou asked, and Michiru doesn’t know why she’s not saying any of that out loud. It’s just… 

She can think about it. She does, sometimes. But it would be ridiculous, too ridiculous, to talk about it. 

Shirou is still looking so serious, and her laughter is running out, so she tries to say something anyway. Something that would be true, but not too stupid. 

“I want Nazuna to like me.”

Well. That’s certainly true. 

“I want her to think I’m pretty, and that she likes me, and that I’m a pretty girl she likes. See?”

Surprisingly, Shirou nods curtly. 

“So, I have to be a girl, you see?”

This time, he tilts his head, and says: “Nazuna likes you anyway, doesn’t she?”

Michiru blinks. 

“She liked you even when a cult was brainwashing her, so. If that’s what you want, you should ask her if she thinks you’re pretty.”

She blinks again. 

Nazuna doesn’t give compliments, or not directly. She asks for them. 

Michiru gives her compliments, whenever she can. She doesn’t… she doesn’t ask for them. 

Maybe Shirou is on to something, there. 

“And you,” she asks, and she feels like her voice sounds like her own, like it didn’t just before, “do you think I’m pretty?”

She smiles at his answering glare. 

“No,” he growls, “I think you’re a brat.”

She laughs, even louder than before, and it feels like finally popping a bubble inside her lungs. That’s exactly what she was hoping for. She doesn’t want Shirou to think she’s pretty, that would be weird. 

* * *

Nazuna is…

Pretty. Beautiful. 

She’s  _ wonderful.  _

She changed a lot of the decoration in her bedroom, after firing that creep ass snake. There’s band posters on the walls, more colors. Still the huge four poster bed in the center, though, where Michiru is sitting and Nazuna is laying back on her elbows, scrolling lazily on her phone.

She mutters curses under her breath occasionally, which lets Michiru know she’s on Twitter. She doesn’t check social medias in public because she gets too invested and crude, which, in Michiru’s opinion, is cute. 

However, it does mean that it sounds a little weird when Nazuna says “what a fucking bitch,” at the same time that Michiru says “how do I look?”

Michiru clamps her mouth shut immediately, but Nazuna simply looks up, not even a whisker out of place.

“Normal,” she answers, “is there a problem? Do you feel sick?”

She sighs. She felt like it took everything out of her to ask the question, but of course she has to explain. For all her qualities, Nazuna can’t actually read her mind.

“No, I feel fine. I meant, in a general sense…”

Nazuna puts her phone down, which does not make this easier.

“Do you think,” she continues, “that I… look…”

Nazuna tilts her head in the second of silence, her ears quivering.

“Good,” Michiru concludes finally, lamely.

“You wanna know if you’re pretty?” she says, and in her mouth, even just the word  _ pretty _ sounds pretty, and that  _ is _ it, in a way, what she wants to know, but not really.

“I mean, what do  _ you  _ think? It’s not if I’m pretty, because I know I’m not, I don’t wear makeup and I frown and,” Michiru can immediately tell that this is one of the times she’s going to talk until she’s forcefully stopped, “I don’t wear skirts and that’s fine because it’s me, I look like me, I don’t wanna be pretty, but you’re so pretty and cute and beautiful too, and you wear makeup but you always look good! And you said I was pretty when you did my makeup and I like when you compliment me and that was nice but I guess I just want to know what you think about,” she takes a breath, having no other choice, “me.”

The rant is done, apparently, cut off either because Michiru ran out of speed or because she can feel the mattress shifting, and when she opens the eyes that she was squeezing close, Nazuna is sitting up, and much closer.

“So,” she says, with a sly accent in her voice and a coy look on her face, “you don’t like makeup,” did she say that? Michiru is not sure she said that, “you think I’m beautiful,” that’s nothing new, “and you like when I compliment you.” Is this new? She thought it was obvious, but at the way Nazuna’s smile stretches with that, turning from teasing to sincere, maybe it wasn’t. 

“Well personally,” Nazuna keeps going, “I like hearing you say that. So as a reward, here’s a compliment: of course my makeup on you was pretty, but Michiru, when I see you, I always think you’re cute.”

Even with a human face, Michiru doesn’t blush easily. Still, with the warmth that takes up her whole body, she’s very grateful for the fur covering her skin.

“I-”

“Obviously,” Nazuna interrupts, “you don’t look like me, but that’s good. I like how  _ I _ look, but you should know, Michiru,” she grins, showing off her teeth, “you’re exactly my type of girl.”

Even through the fur, the redness of her face must be visible now. The fur might actually catch fire, she thinks, with how hot she feels.

“Your type?” she answers with a voice that she never heard from herself, like a cat got stuck in her throat.

“Yep!”

Nazuna didn’t stop smiling. Michiru thinks she might be smiling too, she’s not sure, but she feels the stretch in her cheeks.

“Makes me want to do…” 

The mattress dips again as Nazuna gets closer, and closer, and finally, boops Michiru’s nose with hers, their whiskers brushing together. “This,” she whispers, brushing their lips together, before falling back, bouncing on her hands. “What about you?”

The cat seems to have invited its whole family, and they’re having a party in Michiru’s chest. It’s taking up a lot of her focus to keep them from bursting through her ribs, she can’t answer right now.

“Am I your type of girl,” Nazuna clarifies, and Michiru simply  _ has _ to answer that. She can’t let her dear friend wonder.

“YES,” she practically screams. Okay, actually screams. It is pretty important.

“Good,” says Nazuna with a mysterious air. She nudges herself closer to Michiru again, a wave flowing back and forth, directly connected to the wave shaking up Michiru’s stomach and flowing through her lungs. Drowning isn’t so bad. 

Nazuna picks up her phone, Michiru keeps watching her. She’s smiling a bit more than before, and she swears less.

“I don’t think I’ll go to the gala as a human,” Michiru says eventually.

“That would be fun,” says Nazuna. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!! Please leave a kudo/comment, it would make my day, and I hope you liked my small contribution to this fantastic little anime!


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